


Harry Potter and Slytherin's Chamber

by Half_BloodPrincess



Series: Slytherin Harry [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Ron Weasley, Drama, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentor Severus Snape, Mostly Gen, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_BloodPrincess/pseuds/Half_BloodPrincess
Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter And The Slytherin's Stone: Harry and friends are back for their second year at Hogwarts, but when a mysterious creature starts killing their classmates, will Harry become the hero and saviour the Gryffindors think he could be?
Series: Slytherin Harry [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/118627
Comments: 23
Kudos: 265





	1. What the Dursleys Did Next

**Author's Note:**

> As of 2020, this work is being updated, and written! Previously some of this appeared on FF.

“He's out.” The acerbic voice of Petunia Dursley travelled down the phone line.

“Do you know when he might be back, Mrs Dursley?” Hermione returned politely.

“No.” Petunia snapped.

“Well then, do you know where he's gone?” Hermione persisted.

“No.” Petunia repeated shortly. “Is that all?”

“I... er... I suppose so.” Hermione flinched at the harsh click as the elder woman hung up. She bit her lip as she looked up at her father, who had stayed with her as she made the call.

“She said he was out again, did she?” He asked, frowning as Hermione nodded in agreement. “And you've not spoken to him at all this week, not since the station?”

“No, Daddy.” Hermione's lower lip trembled. “I haven't talked to him at all.”

“Perhaps it's about time to call my friend in Child Services.” Mr Granger mused aloud. “Get him to escalate the concern I called in.” Hermione bit her lip again.

“Maybe... Maybe I should write to Draco first. His father did put that charm on Harry, he might know a little bit more.” Hermione's jaw set as she came to a decision. Her father sighed, having seen the same expression on the face of his wife many times – usually indicating he was about to lose an argument.

“Well then, sweetheart, why don't you go write your letter, and I'll tell your Mum we're taking a trip to London, so you can send it at that post office of yours. The sooner we send it, the sooner you'll get a reply.”

“Thank you Daddy!” Hermione ran up and wrapped her arms around her father, hugging him tightly.

“Maybe we'll see about getting you an owl for yourself while we're there. Might save us from travelling into London so often.” Mr Granger thought aloud, mentally tallying the cost in petrol of their recent number of trips to the capital. Looking down at his daughter he smiled, watching as she bounced up the stairs, mumbling happily to herself about an owl. “Don't forget that letter, Hermione!” He called after her as he resolved to go and tell her mother about the pet he'd just accidentally-on-purpose promised their daughter.

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

_Draco,_

_My parents and I haven't been able to contact Harry through Muggle methods, and we're starting to get worried about him. I know your Father put that charm on him, so I was hoping that you had a better idea of what's going on. I hate to think of Harry being stuck there with those beastly people all summer, who knows what they'll do to him?_

_Daddy says that if your Father isn't entirely sure that Harry is okay, then he's going to ask his friend in Child Services to pay a visit to them with a couple of police officers. At least that way if anything is happening, they'll get Harry out, and safe, even if it isn't with either of us._

_How has your summer been otherwise? My parents and I have visited four museums already, and I've been into Diagon Alley several times too (I'm sure you can already guess that I went to Flourish and Blotts every time). Seeing as your Father is on the Board of Governors, you don't suppose that he'd have any idea what books we'll need for next year, or even any that might be helpful for Second year? I'm awfully impatient to get started on preparing, and I've already read over everything from First year again._

_Yours hopefully,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. The owl that's carrying this is my new owl, Diogenes. He's very clever, so if you tell him to bring your letter back to me, he will._

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

It took just over a day for Diogenes to return with Draco's letter, the beautiful horned owl waiting in the kitchen when the bushy-haired Ravenclaw awoke. Rushing across the room, still barefoot and in pajamas, Hermione gently removed the letter, pausing only to give the owl a piece of bacon from the plate her mother had just set out for her.

“Is this from your friend Harry, dear?” Hermione's mother asked. All three Grangers had been alarmed at the silence from a boy that Hermione described as one of her best friends.

“No, Mum, it's from Draco.” Hermione replied, absently sipping at her glass of orange juice as she skimmed the letter.

“Well has he said anything interesting?” Her mother asked, only to be met by a frustrated sigh. “I'll take that as a no.” She said dryly.

“He's basically said nothing at all!” Hermione almost growled, throwing the letter onto the table before taking a knife and fork to her breakfast.

“Do you mind if I...” Hermione shook her head, pushing the letter across to her mother before the elder woman could finish her question.

_Hermione,_

_My summer so far has been dreadfully busy – I'm sure you understand that my family has many social engagements, and now that I am of Hogwarts age, I am expected to participate in many. It has meant that I have been able to see many of our classmates, although while seeing Blaise and Theo Nott is a good thing, running into Longbottom and Weasley is not as well appreciated._

_How are you finding your time away from the Hogwarts library? Mother tells me that I should remind you that you are welcome to visit, if you would like to, and I'll add that Malfoy Manor hosts one of the largest private magical libraries in Britain, which I know will have you rushing to the nearest Floo connection._

_Father says that the monitoring spell he placed on Harry hasn't noted any arm to him. As to your attempts to get Harry away from those awful Muggles, while I'm sure that you have the best of intentions, my Father is working on a bill to be put through the Wizengamot that will release Harry from them, which will no doubt be successful. He will be removed to a proper Wizarding family in no time at all._

_Yours respectfully,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Noble House of Malfoy_

“He says barely anything about Harry, it's like he's not worried about him at all!” Hermione complained around a mouthful of breakfast.

“Speak after food, dear.” Her mother reprimanded absently. “Are you sure that this Draco boy is a good friend to you? He seems rather... stand-offish in the letter.”

“You mean arrogant, Mum.” Hermione corrected, smiling. “He is, but he's also a good friend, to me, and to Harry, which is why this makes no sense at all! I know his Dad says that Harry's not hurt, but I don't know if his charm would show anything other than Harry being hurt physically. From what I've read...”

“We'll get your Dad to talk to his friend again.” Her mother cut off her explanation of her reading, something that she knew, from experience would not only be thorough, but also very long and likely partially incomprehensible. “Maybe we'll see if Dad can go with him, he could take one of your letters and give it right to Harry.”

Hermione beamed up at her mother.

“Thanks, Mum.” The young girl fed another scrap of bacon to her owl, much happier now that her parents were working to got everything sorted, now sure that news of Harry would not be so long in coming.

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

“Look, Dan, the only way this is going to work is if I'm a private citizen with you. I just happen to be with you, as you're hand delivering a letter to your daughter's friend. If they let us in, and we see something wrong with this boy, then it can go to the police, and get official on my end.” Richard Sherman was a no-nonsense senior social worker. He and Dan had met at university, both having played on the university's rugby team, and had stayed in touch after they'd both graduated.

“I get it, Rich.” Daniel Granger nodded in agreement. They'd parked his Land Rover just around the corner from Privet Drive, wanting a little extra time to go over their rather short plan. “Now it's just time for me to cross my fingers.” He reached out and opened the car door. Richard, however, just sat still.

“Tell me, Dan, what do you want to find at this house?” He asked carefully. “I know you and Emma have made sure to keep yourselves on the emergency list for fostering – are you hoping that this boy comes to you?”

Daniel Granger sighed, pulling the car door shut again.

“I hope that I find that Hermione was just worrying. I hope we see Harry playing in the garden with friends.” Here he paused, seemingly searching for the right words to convince his long-time friend of his sincerity. “However, I don't expect that that's what we'll find. I met this brute of an uncle – he barely looked at the child, there's clearly no love lost between them. And I know that it could just be a young boy acting out but... I feel like it's something more than that. If it is, I hope we can take him anywhere away from here.” Dan fell silent, frowning at the steering wheel.

“You're a good man, Dan.” Richard smiled.

“I won't lie, Emma and I would enjoy having Harry stay with us, but we'd enjoy it just as much if he was visiting and coming back to a loving family. I'd not want a child taken away from that.” Dan admitted slowly. Richard's smile widened.

“Knew I liked you for a reason, Granger!” He swiftly opened the car door, and jumped out. “Are you coming, or not?”

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

Whilst at university, Daniel Granger had been known as somewhat of a ladies man. Standing at six foot three, his athletic body and wide smile had allowed him to talk many women into his bed, and many of his friends out of trouble. At the dental practice he shared with his wife, he took it upon himself to deal with most of their more troublesome patients, affecting interest and slowly talking them into calming down for procedures.

Thanks to his wide experience, talking Petunia Dursley into letting them into her home had been a piece of cake. Sugar-free, of course.

“You can see why I had to visit in person, I'm sure.” Dan smiled charmingly, taking a sip of the tea that Petunia had provided him with. “We both know that boys will be boys, out all day and never bothering to write, but my little girl – and my wife, haven't had much experience with young boys. Certainly not as much as you have, dealing with two.” Dan gestured to the mantelpiece covered in photo frames, which Richard was carefully browsing through.

“Well, my Dudley has never been a problem.” Petunia replied defensively. “He's always been an angel, helping me out, never in trouble.”

“How could he be anything but, with a woman like yourself for a mother?” Dan worked hard to keep the simpering smile on his face, swallowing down bile at the words he spoke. Petunia didn't seem to notice, giggling slightly, and blushing.

“I take it that it's your son in all of these pictures?” Richard asked.

“Yes, Dudley's always loved having photographs taken, and Vernon and I couldn't deny him that. We've got albums upstairs filled with him demanding he have his picture taken!”

“He's a strapping boy.” Richard nodded. “My dear, may I use your bathroom, before we leave? It's clear that your nephew won't be back for some time.”

“Of course, Mr Sherman.” Petunia smiled. It's just up the stairs, first door on the right.”

“Thank you.” Richard left the living room, being sure to close the door behind him. Now that he was inside the house, he could clearly see what had worried his friend for so long. The woman – Petunia – had been talking for over thirty minutes, not once mentioning her nephew, Harry. Of the dozen or so photos he'd seen, none contained Harry. It was almost as if there were only one child residing at Number 4, Privet Drive. Frowning to himself, he took the stairs two at a time, intent on investigating the rooms upstairs.

The first door on the right was, as Petunia had said, the bathroom, in which there was little to interest him. The next door was the master bedroom – again containing only photographs of Dudley, and his parents. The third door he tried was a child's bedroom. Large wooden letters above the bed proclaimed it to belong to Dudley, something he could have guessed from the large numbers of expensive toys strewn across the floor. Stepping out, he turned to the last room.

The door was quite battered, with chips of paint missing, and odd holes where screws had once been. Richard traced them with his fingers, recognising the pattern of locks, recently removed from his long years of work investigating homes. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door, to reveal-

Nothing. This room was bare, dingy even. The furniture in this room was easily years older than in the rest of the house, mismatched and in bad condition. The bare floorboards were slightly uneven, and splintering in places. Richard crossed into the room, testing the strength of the bars that covered the only window in the room. Internally, he sighed. Even with the many suggestions of wrongdoing, and his own ill-feelings towards the treatment of the child he had yet to see, he and Dan had yet to come up with any evidence. And a lack of evidence meant that Harry would stay with the Dursleys still.

Richard came down the stairs noisily, signalling to Dan that he was ready to leave. Sure enough, the door to the living room opened as he reached the bottom stair. A slight shake of Richard's head indicated that he'd not found Harry.

“Well thank you very much for your hospitality, Mrs Dursley.” Dan pressed the letter that Hermione had written into the sour woman's hand. “Please, when he does arrive home, pass this letter on to Harry, Hermione would be very grateful if you could convince him to pen a response.”

“I'll pass it along, Mr Granger.” Petunia promised, however the dark look that flashed across her face as she accepted the envelope told a different story. Richard stepped forwards to shake hands with the woman, when he heard a distinct thump come from underneath the stairs.

Both men spun around, ignoring Petunia's frantic assertion that a mop simply must have fallen over. Even she fell silent at the second loud thump. Richard bent down to examine the door to the cupboard underneath the stairs. There, preventing it from opening were three padlocks, coincidentally corresponding to the holes in the door from upstairs.

“Madam, you will open this door.” Even Richard was surprised at the venom in his voice. “You will open this door right this instant!”

“I've not got to do anything!” Petunia spat back, teeth flashing viciously. “I can keep a door locked if I want to! But you – you – both of you – have to get out of my house, or I'll call the police.”

Dan took out a mobile phone from his pocket.

“No worries, I'll call them now.”

Petunia had gone white.

“I don't have the keys.” She whispered. “Vernon takes them with him.”

“What is in this cupboard?” Richard asked, icily, already fearing the answer.

“The boy – my nephew.” Petunia responded slowly, in a very small voice. “Harry.”

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

The police had arrived remarkably quickly, once summoned. A keen constable had picked the lock to the cupboard, revealing a semi-conscious, emaciated Harry. Dan had rushed to kneel next to him, the police officers wary of moving the child before an ambulance arrived. Petunia was, of course, on her way to the police station, and Richard was on the phone to his work, making arrangements to house Dudley, whilst his parents were being investigated, and Harry, once he'd been released from hospital care.

“Mist' Gr'nger,” Harry's eyes fluttered open, his words slurred slightly. “What're you doin' here?”

“I came to see how you are, Harry.” Dan smiled down at the boy, taking his hand gently. “Hermione's been missing you.”

“Miss H'mione too.” Harry smiled. “An' Draco, an' Blai', an' jus'-”

“Careful, Harry,” Dan whispered. “Remember where you are.”

“Dur'leys.” Harry replied slowly. “I don' like it here.” His face creased in worry, head slowly shaking from side to side. “Wanna go 'way.”

“It's okay, Harry, you're going away from here. We're going to get you better, and Hermione, and me and her Mum are going to make sure that you're okay.”

“H'mione's nice.” Harry mumbled, a smile sliding up one side of his face. “She' so-oooo smar'.”

“Well she tells me that you're smart too I hear you came second in your year overall, Hermione's been telling us that she needs to study more because you're catching up to her!” Dan kept talking to Harry, trying to make sure he stayed awake. “Hermione's got a new owl too, did you know? He's almost as pretty as that owl of yours, she says – what's your owl like, Harry?”

“She's call' He'wig,” Harry's face lit up as he began to tell Dan all about his snowy owl, clasping the older man's hand. Harry wouldn't let go even when the paramedics arrived. “Don' leave me.” He'd whined pitifully, tugging at Mr Granger's heartstrings.

Really, the man had no chance against those wide green eyes, and so he handed off his car keys to Richard, leaving himself free to travel in the ambulance with Harry. The paramedics had been rather cautious, letting Harry sip water mixed with sugar while they monitored his heart rate, and blood pressure. It seemed to Dan that Harry hadn't drunk much before he turned his head away.

“Feel sick.” He mumbled, but Dan thought he saw a glimmer more colour in his pale cheeks.

Once they were settled in the hospital, Harry sleeping fitfully, Dan slipped away to call home. Hermione picked up on the first ring, sure to have been sitting next to the phone, desperate for news.

“Dad?” She'd asked hopefully. “How is he? Is he okay? What's going on? Are you okay?”

“I won't lie to you, Hermione.” Dan had considered lying, but Hermione would want to see her friend, and his emaciated form would tell the story on its own. “Harry's not been treated well, but we got to him in time. He's in the hospital now, but he's going to be okay. Harry is safe now.”


	2. The Granger Grievances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for all of the kudos and comments on this - feeling very inspired right now, and keeping writing!! Hopefully you'll like where this is going.

Mr Granger had been sat next to Harry's hospital bed for just under an hour before Lucius Malfoy arrived. The pale blond aristocrat stalked into the ward, face twisted into a dark scowl. Dan had, whilst sat next to the sleeping child, been thinking on the letters his daughter had received from Draco Malfoy, extolling the virtues of his father, reassuring the family that his father would know if any harm came to Harry. An hour spent staring at the gaunt boy had wound up Daniel Granger's temper to the extent that, as soon as he found the target of his ire within arm’s reach, Lucius Malfoy was hoisted up by his collar by an irate dentist before he quite knew what was happening.

“Your son told us, you told us that if anything happened to that child, you would know.” Dan growled. “Or wasn't he that important to you?”

Lucius took a firm hold of the other man's wrist, and pushed it downwards, breaking his grip as he stepped forwards, the light in his eyes causing Dan to step back hurriedly. He sliced his cane through the air to his immediate right, leaving a trail of blue sparks for a mere instant.

“The charm that acts on Harry activated an hour ago, only. The charm itself is designed to be difficult to ignore – the caster feels the pain. When it activated, I collapsed. I do not understand how it is that when I look at Harry now, I see damage that would have taken time. The charm should have activated days or weeks ago. I don't understand why it didn't work, but be assured that I will find out who is responsible for this, and I will make them regret it.”

Mr Granger narrowed his eyes, once at the other man, then nodded sharply, the colour draining from his face.

“I apologise for that, it's just, imagining that you had ignored something like this...”

“There's no need to apologise. There is never a reason to leave a child in an abusive environment, never.” Lucius' gaze softened as he turned to look at Harry. “Thank you, for what you did. He needs people to rely on.”

“He'll have me, and my family when he needs us.” Dan agreed.

“Do you know what will happen to him?” Lucius asked, taking a seat next to the bed. “I have some knowledge of your legal system, but this is...”

“It's a bit specialised, yeah.” Dan took the other chair, and began to speak. “My wife and I had Hermione late in life. We didn't think we'd ever be able to have a child of our own, but we wanted children in our lives. So we fostered kids who needed it. Sometimes for a few nights, sometimes a few months. When we had Hermione, we always intended to keep it up, but when she was around five...”

“Accidental magic?” Lucius' eyebrows raised at Mr Granger's wearied nod. “That is very young, particularly for a Muggleborn child. I knew that your daughter was intelligent, of course, but this speaks volumes to her magical power.”

“Always top of the class, Hermione.” Dan smiled. “We didn't really know what was going on, back then, but strange things happened. When she got upset, or angry, or jealous – with other children in the house it was worse. So we stopped fostering. We kept ourselves on the emergency care list, kept ourselves in the system in case there was a desperate need for a night or two, but we decided against anything long-term until we knew what was happening with Hermione. Then that Professor turned up, told us she was a witch. Well, we were grateful to know that there was nothing wrong with her, of course, but she'd have to be away at school nine months of the year! We talked with Hermione about it, and Emma and I decided that we'd go back into normal fostering after Christmas, once we knew she was happy there. I've got friends in the Social Services, I'll be pulling a couple of favours to have Harry stay with us, temporarily at first.”

“Why not make it permanent?” Lucius asked curiously.

“Well, we'd want to see – and the social workers would need to see – that Harry was happy with our family first, that he was fitting in, getting back to normal. Considering Harry would be away at school for so much of the year as well, it'd likely take a year, or more to confirm any details on making it permanent. We'd have custody for that though, assuming no problems on our side of things.”

“And are there likely to be... problems?” Lucius asked, smiling as Mr Granger shook his head dismissively.

“As long as Harry has no strong objections, the temporary placement will probably go ahead.”

“I am glad to hear that Harry will be well looked after. Might I suggest that we consider warding your home before Harry arrives there?”

“What's a warding when it's at home?” Dan frowned. Lucius smiled, and leant forwards.

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

Draco

I hope you're happy now. You've probably heard from your father that Harry is in the hospital. Fat lot of good his fancy spells were! It's lucky I sent my Muggle father to rescue him, don't you think?

I don't know if Harry will want to speak with you, considering you've all but ignored his lack of response to anything. Personally, I'd be quite happy if you left us alone. It's obvious you don't care a bit for Harry, he'll be much happier in my Muggle family than he ever would have been with a proper Wizarding family like yours.

I hope you rot.

Hermione.

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

“That wasn't a nice letter to send, Hermione.” Mrs Granger frowned down at her daughter.

The girl in question sat eating toast, for breakfast, completely unconcerned with her mother's recriminations.

“He ignored Harry.” Hermione responded, tone even. “And Harry nearly died. I think that he ought to feel bad, I bet it's not even half as bad as Harry feels and I shan't take it back.”

Emma Granger reached for her handbag and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. This conversation was bound to leave her with a raging headache, and they did say that prevention was better than cure. Of course, the true prevention would be if her daughter wasn't so opinionated and didn't form such logical arguments, but she herself had been the same, if only when she was slightly older.

“Hermione, I'm not saying that what your friend did wasn't wrong,” Emma watched the young girl's face darken at the f-word, and hastened to continue before she was interrupted. “But what I am saying is that sending a letter like that was also wrong. How do you think Harry will feel when he wakes up, to find his friends arguing over him?”

Hermione's brow furrowed at that, and Emma decided to push on with her advantage.

“I've talked to your father, and we've both been in touch with social services. Once Harry's out of the hospital, he'll be coming to stay with us. And, your Dad and I, we want to make sure that he's got all of the support he needs. Which means his friends, which means your friends. Those two other boys, Draco and Blaise, that you wrote to us about, they're going to be here tomorrow, when Harry comes to stay. That means that this – tiff – with Draco ends today.”

“He ignored Harry!” Hermione spat out, eyes flashing with rage. “If I hadn't made Dad go to see Harry, he might have died!”

“And do you not think your friend feels bad about that as well?” Hermione's mother shot back, eyebrows raised. “At the very least, you have to speak to him, and you have to find out what happened, from his perspective. I know that what happened to Harry upsets you, and scares you, and probably makes you feel all kinds of things you've never felt before, but you can't put all of the blame on Draco. He's only a child, just like you are.”

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

Draco arrived an hour and a half later, accompanied by his father.

The two pre-teens sat, in silence, at the dining room table.

"Did you really not know?"

"If I'd have known, if father had known, we would have stopped it!" Draco hissed back. "Do you really think that we'd let those filthy Muggles do that to him?"

"I think you'd do anything to get him away from filthy Muggles. Guess you won't be a frequent visitor to my filthy Muggle house then, will you?"

"I didn't- You're not-" Draco sighed. "They're filthy Muggles. You aren't. Even if they weren't wizards, they'd be the lowest of the low, scum of the Earth..."

"That I can agree with." Hermione locked eyes with Draco, deep brown pools locking with silver. "I want in."

"In on what, exactly?" Draco looked up at the ceiling, away from the young witch in front of him. "I don't know what you-"

"Harry might not be ready to go after them yet, but when he is, he'll take you with him. And I want in."

"Granger, if anything were to happen to that filth, I doubt that it would meet with your morals." Draco spoke slowly, eyes tracing the determined line her jaw took.

"You didn't see him, what they'd done to him." Hermione drew a shuddering breath, pulling her cardigan across her chest. "They're monsters. Despicable, disgusting freaks!"

All Draco could do was slowly nod in agreement.


	3. Flourish and Blotts

Although Harry’s injuries required six days in the hospital, between the Grangers, the Malfoys and Professor Snape, there was always at least one person with him. The nurses and social workers always had a soft glance for Harry’s ever present watchers.

Professor Snape had provided a heavily charmed, and doctored medical file, from Harry’s first year at school. It showed his injuries from the Dursleys, but brushed over the quickened recovery time, and was charmed to ensure that no questions were raised as to why the abuse had not been reported.

Harry had also spoken briefly to a psychologist at the hospital. She hadn’t seemed to mind that Harry didn’t talk to her much, but gave him, and Mr and Mrs Granger a sheaf of different leaflets of different people they could talk to, and about all of the different emotions he might be feeling. Harry had rolled his eyes as hard as he could as she’d explained that one.

Mrs Granger had told Harry that he’d probably have to meet a psychologist again, but not at the hospital. He hadn’t liked how she had passed on the bits that he had said to the Grangers, and everyone else who was interested in him right now. 

“You might notice some odd behaviour and he might not meet the typical milestones. With this type of physical abuse, you can see brain damage, and that can take a while to become fully apparent in terms of how it would affect his life. You might notice increased aggression, he might be more likely to risk himself, but he also might seem like he’s very much trying to please you. It’s a bit of a mixed bag at the moment, until he talks more, but you just need to be careful with him, and of him. Sometimes kids can seem like they’re almost a normal child, doing their chores, behaving well, listening to you, and then they can turn violent and repeat the same controlling behaviours.” The psychologist had talked at the Grangers for what seemed like an age, while Harry was pretending to be asleep. After, he’d told Mr Granger that he didn’t want to talk to her again. He promised that Harry wouldn’t have to.

Apart from the psychologist, there had been a veritable parade of police officers and social workers all wanting to speak with Harry. Each person assured him repeatedly that he would not be returning to Privet Drive, but it was Draco and Hermione, in a rare moment with no adults who convinced him.

“We’ll come and get you, if they try to send you back.” Hermione had promised, face solemn. “We’ll turn up in the dead of night and we’ll bring you home, to us.”

“And we’ll make whoever sent you there pay.” Draco promised, Hermione nodding along, eyes dark.

Harry found life at the Grangers to be very different to life with the Dursleys. He hadn’t yet found a need to use his controlling voice on either of Hermione’s parents (and, with the near constant rotating presence of the Malfoys and Professor Snape, Harry doubted such use would go undiscovered).

He also wasn’t expected to do any chores – the Grangers had assured him that they would rather his time be spent studying than with manual labour, which he had certainly done enough of throughout his years with the Dursleys. Much of summer passed this way, with Harry and Hermione studying together, sometimes taking over the dining table with piles of books and scraps of parchment, other times curled up in armchairs reading to each other, and, occasionally, when the weather allowed for it, sat in the garden.

Draco was often present, visiting as frequently as he was able, bringing books from the Manor’s library, and sharing stories of society events he’d attended with his parents. Blaise also visited a number of times, although Hermione found herself quietly grateful that he did not appear as often as Draco, given his propensity to disagree with afternoons of studying.

Harry’s birthday was, in keeping with the rest of the summer, a quiet affair. The elder Grangers had bought him a cake (sugar-free), and allowed him to invite any friends he wished. Draco and Blaise joined Harry and Hermione at the Grangers that afternoon, as did Theo and Daphne Greengrass, who brought her sister Astoria with her. Astoria was quieter still than Daphne, but spoke brightly to Draco about her excitement to start at Hogwarts in September.

The children spent the afternoon happily chatting in the Grangers’ living room, picking at the buffet foods set out

August brought as many rainy days as sunny, but luckily their trip to Diagon Alley fell on a dry day. Mrs Granger drove Harry and Hermione to a tube station on the outskirts of London, and the three of them met Draco, Lucius and Narcissa at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Are you certain you don’t mind looking after all of the children?” Emma Granger fretted. “You were intending to take these three, and Blaise, and the two girls just with the two of you? I don’t mind staying, if you want another pair of eyes? I can still cancel with my friend...”

Narcissa smiled gently, and shook her head.

“It’s kind of you to offer Emma, but we’ll be fine just the two of us – they all know not to wander off, and you’ve had your hands full with Draco and Blaise visiting so often this summer. You deserve the break, and we’ll ensure they’re back with you on Thursday.” Narcissa ruffled Harry’s hair fondly. “And honestly, your two are no trouble at all.”

“If you’re sure.” Emma agreed, bending to hug first Harry, and then Hermione, pressing kisses to the crown of their heads – Harry accepting his peacefully, Hermione squirming away. “I’ll see you two in a few hours back here.”

Lucius and Narcissa herded the three children into the Leaky Cauldron, quickly spotting the Greengrass’ looking pinched and uncomfortable next to a wildly gesturing Eladora Zabini. Daphne and Astoria looked much happier, sat next to Blaise, who was apparently unconsciously gesturing in a similar fashion to his mother.

After a short conversation in the pub, the Greengrass’ and Mrs Zabini Flooed away, leaving only the six children, and both senior Malfoys. After a brief visit to Gringotts, Narcissa had decreed that robes were the first necessary item. Draco and Blaise had both grown several inches across the previous year, and Astoria needed a full set of Hogwarts standard.

After Madam Malkins, came Scrivenshafts (across the long summer of study sessions, Harry and Hermione were in dire need of parchment and ink), and Hermione was steered away from a very busy Flourish and Blotts in favour of Fortescue’s ice cream parlour as they made their way down the Alley.

“We’ll go to the bookstore last, Hermione, so you’ll know exactly what you have to spend and how long you can stay there.” Lucius told the pouting girl. “There’s a signing this morning, but it should have quietened down in a few hours.”

A number of sugary (and one sugar-free) ice creams later, the group split into two between the cauldron shop and the next door apothecary.

“Seeing as we got Astoria’s cauldron so quickly, can we go get a birthday gift for Hermione?” Harry pleaded. “You know Draco and Hermione will want to spend forever looking for the best ingredients.”

“Where did you want to head to, Harry?” Lucius asked thoughtfully. “If we don’t go too far, I don’t see an issue.”

“I wanted to get her a better school bag.” Harry explained. “Something she can carry half the library in.”

“Like she already does!” Daphne added, under her breath. Astoria elbowed her in the side.

“Don’t be mean!” She hissed at her sister. “I like Hermione. She’s nice to me.” Daphne rolled her eyes.

“Scribbulus, I think would be best.” Lucius interrupted the sisters glaring, leading the group past the apothecary, smiling at the sight of Draco and Hermione’s bent heads through the window as they passed.

Harry looked in amazement at the number of different styles of quills on the walls of Scribbulus. Violent lime green, bright pink, large peacock style feathers, small short gold quills. Lucius and Harry left Daphne and Astoria looking quills, moving to a display of leather satchels at the rear of the store.

“I know she likes brown leather,” Harry told Lucius. “That’s what her bag is right now, but it always looks like it’s going to break, with all the books she has in it. Camélia mentioned expendable bags to me last year, are any of these expendable?”

“All of them can be spelled expendable, young sir!” The shopkeeper appeared behind them almost silently. “We can also offer a number of different enchantments, depending on what the bag is for? Refrigeration, compartments, locking, a variety of library charms, colour charms, embossing – there’s a whole host of options!”

“What kind of library charms do you do?” Harry asked curiously. “It’s a present, for a friend from school, and she always has loads of books.”

“Ahh, Ravenclaw friend?” The clerk smiled. “Here, let me show you a popular option!” He reached behind the counter and pulled out a blue satchel with the Ravenclaw crest on the front. “Look, it will only open to my magical signature – detectable through my hand pressed here – and you can see the different sections all expanded somewhat, if I open this one this has spaces for rolls of parchment, the next has space for ink bottles and quills, anti-spilling charms here, and this one has a rotating shelf for books, it spins see? Will hold up to thirty books at once, and the whole bag has a reduced weight charm.”

“Hmm, what do you think Harry?” Lucius asked the young boy. "Something to consider, perhaps?"

"Maybe." Harry hedged. "Depends how much it is, I suppose."

"Eight galleons, four sickles." The clerk smiled.

"Bit more than I'd expect for something of this quality." Lucius frowned, idly running a finger across the leather. "Perfectly suitable for schooling of course, but the charms will only hold for what, three years?"

"Three years guarantee, yes – how about for you, Mister Malfoy, we'll call it eight galleons, even!"

"It's not Lucius buying it though, it's me," Harry paused, squaring his shoulders. "Harry Potter, pleased to make your acquaintance."

The shopkeeper's eyes widened.

"Mister Potter! The-Boy-Who-Lived, in my shop, as I live and breathe! Seven galleons four sickles, cost price for you, of course!"

"That'll do, I suppose. Did Daphne or Astoria want anything?" Harry twisted, looking back to where the sisters were approaching, lush deep bronze feather in Daphne's hand. "I'm sure you can give us a good price for that quill, as well?"

"I- ah- The Quotes Quill is another great tool for students, can be used to take exact note of the words said aloud by the bonded speaker. They sell for three galleons, six sickles and a knut, but how about three galleons four sickles?"

Lucius looked quizzically at Daphne, who nodded in agreement, reaching for the coin purse her mother had given her.

The group made their way back to the apothecary, having to wait only a few minutes for Hermione and Draco to finish buying the supplies they all needed.

The final shop then, had Hermione bouncing with excitement – Flourish and Blotts. Lucius had been correct, much of the earlier furore had calmed down, although there was still a queue for books to be signed by the author. 

Hermione peered curiously at the large portrait near the end of the queue, and the sign next to it.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12.30-4.30

It being almost 4, the author was still present, although most of the crowd had died down, and the photographers who'd earlier been huddled around the shop had vanished into thin air.

"We have books from Lockhart on our list." Hermione pointed out. "Might be nice to have signed copies. I think the author is in lots of magazines too – I overheard Mandy Brocklehurst talking about him last year."

"Let's go pick up the rest of the books from the lists first, hmm?" Narcissa suggested mildly. They wandered through displays, picking up what they needed, led by Narcissa, coming out towards the front of the queue and a display of Art books.

Hermione turned away from the books, looking over at the blond-haired author, busy chatting away and signing books.

“Oi, Granger, burying your nose in more books? Won’t replace having real friends you know!” Ron Weasley had broken away from another pair of redheads – the twins – a few steps away from the queue.

Harry and Draco turned as one, and moved to flank Hermione, Blaise not far behind, stepping to Harry’s left.

“Hermione has friends, clearly.” Blaise drawled. “Us.”

“You know they’re just using you, right Granger? Just want your brain, bloody Know-It-All.” Weasley spat back.

“You’re right Hermione’s smart, Weasley, first in our year last year, remember? We’re two, three and four though, and personally? I’d rather be friends with someone with intelligence, like Hermione, than – what were you again? – fifty something?”

“We know what people like you-”

“Slytherins like you think of Muggle-Borns-”

“Ought to be careful Granger-”

“They’ll stab you in the back as soon as they can.”

“All those pure blood families hate Muggle-Borns.” The two Weasley twins had followed their brother, sly smirks across both of their faces.

Lucius moved to stand behind Hermione, hands resting gently on her shoulder.

“You’re mistaken in your views of my family, and families like mine. Hermione is very dear to us all.” He said.

As if Lucius’s presence had drawn much more attention, an older man and a young girl, with red hair rushed over to the Weasley boys.

“Come on boys, let’s get some air!” He wheezed.

“Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley. Your children, I assume?” He smiled thinly. “All these boys, for all these years, and then this must be your only daughter?”

“Yes!” Squeaked the small girl, hiding behind a curtain of hair.

Lucius’s eyes widened briefly, as he reached out to touch Narcissa’s arm.

“Excuse me – I think I see-”

Draco and Harry frowned at each other as Lucius hurriedly walked away from them all, Draco leaned across Hermione, but was distracted as Narcissa frowned suddenly at Harry, reaching over to brush at his hair.

"Harry darling, you are growing to look just like the ancestral Potters, but we certainly must arrange to have your hair cut before the start of term!" Her clear voice had clearly carried the few feet to the authors table, as there was suddenly a commotion from that direction.

"Harry Potter? It can't be Harry Potter, surely?" Lockhart positively shouted, dropping the book he'd been signing with a loud bang and leaping to his feet. "How wondrous! Of course, you won't have heard the good news, will you?"

Lockhart wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder, pulling him round, until they both faced the queue of still waiting fans. He continued in a very clear, loud voice without pause.

"These people know, Harry, but you can have had no idea when you stepped in to purchase my autobiography, but you will soon be getting much more than my book, Magical Me, but in fact the real magical me! Yes, Harry, I have the great pleasure of informing you that just next month, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts my alma mater!”

“How wonderful that you’ve finally been able to announce this, Gilderoy.” Narcissa smiled, shifting to pull Harry out of Lockhart’s grasp. “My husband sits on the Board of Governors, and I know that they were glad to see such a renowned wizard accept such a crucial position, influencing the greatest wizards of our future.”

“It’s a position I was glad to accept!” Lockhart gestured to one of the assistants. “Here, Harry, a full set of my books, no charge, of course!”

The assistant pushed a heavy stack of books into Harry’s arms, who staggered slightly under the weight.

“Thanks, but er-” Harry blinked awkwardly at the pile.

“It’s a kind gesture, Gilderoy, but as the heir apparent of the Potter line, it might go against his nature to accept such a large gift. Perhaps your charity would be better directed elsewhere?” Harry sighed in relief, Lucius had come back.

“Yes!” Harry agreed quickly. “Maybe there’s someone else going to Hogwarts who could use the books? Is there a hardship fund, or?”

“No fund currently, but perhaps something to consider in future.” Lucius mused, turning to the redheaded family. “Say, Arthur, you have how many children at Hogwarts now?”

“The Weasley family don’t need your-”

“Five now, I would think, darling.” Narcissa added, smiling. “It must be so difficult, raising such a large family on just one salary...”

“Truly inspirational, how your family manages, Arthur.” Lucius agreed. “And there has been talk in the Wizengamot of raising salaries, but you understand the politics of it all Gilderoy, I’m sure.”

“How true!” Gilderoy nodded along – looking as if he had no idea what he was agreeing with. “You’re right of course Harry – I’m sure this lovely family would appreciate the charity from those of us more fortunate!”

“Now see here-”

“Let me help you, Harry.” Lucius removed just over half of the stack, flicking through them one by one and depositing them into the little girl’s cauldron. “Here, you are, some new books for you. If you need anything, Arthur-” He said, straightening up. “I hope you know, that you can always reach out to-”

Arthur sniffed imperiously.

“Come on kids, we’ll wait outside for your mother!”

Gilderoy watched the family leave, head tilted to one side.

“What a pity this all didn’t happen earlier, when the Daily Prophet was here.” He sighed, moving back towards the signing table. “You and me, Harry, and our wondrous act of charity? That’s front page material! Have your school books signed, at any rate?”


	4. Dobby

Harry didn’t say much to Narcissa until after Daphne and Astoria had been collected by their mother, and Blaise had Flooed back home. Draco, recognising his friend’s mood graciously sacrificed himself.

“Would you like to see the Manor’s library, Hermione?”

“Oh, can we? Now?” With Hermione easily distracted, Harry was left alone with Lucius and Narcissa.

“Ree, darling, I must apologise for pulling attention to you in the bookshop today.” Narcissa began, sinking gracefully onto a low chaise lounge. “I can’t wait in a queue like that though sweetheart, and Hermione would have been so dis-”

“No, Narcissa, this was my fault.” Lucius interrupted. “Harry, I’m going to be very honest with you, but this is something you will be unable to discuss with even Draco, do you understand?” Harry nodded sharply.

“You might not have had much experience with compulsion charms – while we were at Flourish and Blotts, a charm I had previously had no knowledge of activated, and I was compelled to collect an artefact and give it to a suitable host.” Lucius frowned. “Dobby!”

The small house elf popped into view – eyes wide, flicking between Lucius, and Harry. Harry hadn’t met Dobby when he stayed at the Manor last year, the Malfoys generally subscribed to the popular wizarding view that elves were not to be seen by guests.

“Dobby, I need you to retrieve the artefact you collected for me this afternoon, from the home of the Weasley family.” Lucius instructed.

“Yes Mister Malfoy sir!” The elf had a shrill voice, which Harry fought to keep himself from wincing at. “Dobby will go now.” The elf snapped his fingers, and disappeared from the room.

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked, after a moment of silence. “You have no reason to tell me, I’m not part of your family, even...”

“Legally, no, you’re not a part of our family, but you matter a great deal to us, Harry.” Lucius sighed. “And if I had not been blocked by Dumbledore at the Wizengamot, you would be living with us, not the Granger family, as an extension to the family. But you’re right, that’s not why I’m telling you this.

“The compulsion I was under dates from before you were born, and it was cast by the Dark Lord. In recent years, I find that my political leanings and-”

Lucius was interrupted by the reappearance of Dobby. The elf hung his head low, wringing his hands.

“Dobby is sorry, Master, but Dobby could not reach the house! Wards, Master, Dobby could not get through the wards!” The elf’s eyes were wide. Lucius sighed heavily.

“Just... Just out of my sight, Dobby.” The elf popped away. Lucius sighed again. “I’ll be in my study, I need to Floo Severus.”

Harry was still none the wiser as to what Lucius had been about to say by Thursday afternoon, when he and Hermione were due to be apparated back to the Grangers’ home. Lucius reached for Hermione first, quickly apparating away, and returning. He gestured Harry towards him, to hold onto his elbow as Hermione had.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Harry, but it’s serious stuff. I don’t want you, or Draco, or any other students getting hurt. You need to be careful. I’ll get this sorted, but you need to stay safe.” Before Harry could reply, Lucius apparated them back to the Grangers – to Harry’s new home.

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

Harry scowled as Draco’s owl, Stymie, returned to the Grangers’ house again. Lucius had clearly told Draco to cut contact with him, so that he wouldn’t tell Draco what little he knew, or so that Draco wouldn’t tell him what he knew. Draco was still, however, writing to Hermione, and had ignored the two letters Harry had sent him, despite them being perfectly innocent and containing no reference to Lucius’s mystery artefact. He bit into his toast viciously as he watched Hermione open her letter, absentmindedly dropping the envelope into her cornflakes.

Hedwig was still out delivering a round of letters to Daphne, Theo and Blaise. She’d been gone several days, but Harry wasn’t worried. Blaise was often out of the country with his mother – her husband, Blaise’s stepfather had died a scant month before Blaise had started at Hogwarts, and this summer marked the end of her grieving period, ready for the season in Wizarding Europe. In his last letter, Blaise had confided that he expected his mother to be wed again next summer. She falls in love too quickly, he had said, playing innocent to the rumours of her being a black widow.

“Harry, can you just write something, anything, to Draco? He’s driving me crazy. I know you’re not happy with his mother for calling all that attention to you, but you have to let it go.”

“What? He’s the one not writing to me. I wrote him! Twice!”

“Then why is he complaining to me? He said you haven’t replied to his letter, look here!” Hermione passed over her letter, pointing insistently at the final paragraph.

Please speak to Harry – he’s not replied to the last three of my letters, and Blaise said yesterday that Harry isn’t speaking with him either. I’m worried about him, I know that he was unhappy with my Mother, for what happened with Lockhart, but please let him know that I am in agreement with him. At any rate, Blaise is certainly at no fault.

“Hermione – I haven’t had any letters. Not from Draco, or Blaise, or even Daphne or Theo. Not since... Not since we came back from Malfoy Manor.” Harry clutched the message from Draco in his fist. “Nothing from any of them. I sent letters to all of them three, or four days ago?”

“But I had a letter from Blaise yesterday – and I only owled him that morning!” Hermione frowned in confusion. “Something must be interfering with your mail. But who would do that? And why? We need to test it. Quickly, go write a letter to Draco, just something short.”

Harry raced into the dining room, which he and Hermione had taken over with schoolwork some weeks ago, diving for the stack of parchment and quills.

_ Draco, _

_ Haven’t been ignoring you – Hermione thinks there’s a problem with my mail? She’s doing some kind of test, I’m sure she’ll explain. _

_ Harry _

“Here, I’ve just written something on this, Harry, you add something – anything.” Hermione, having followed him into the room pushed another piece of parchment at him. Harry quickly skimmed it.

_ Draco, _

_ There’s a problem with Harry’s mail. Reply immediately and let me know which letters you receive. This is Test 2. _

_ Hermione _

Harry shrugged, and added a note underneath Hermione’s neat signature.  _ Hermione told me to write this? Harry. _

“Right, here, good, let me give these three to Stymie, we should have a better idea of what’s going on when she gets back in a couple of hours.” Hermione said decisively, walking back to the kitchen where Draco’s owl was patiently waiting, perched on the back of a chair. “Here girl, to wherever Draco is as quick as you can, please.”

The owl obediently flew out of the kitchen window, with long steady beats of her wings. Both Harry and Hermione watched until she was nothing more than a distant speck in the cloudy sky.

“Well, no point in standing around doing nothing. Do you think that there’ll be anything in The Standard Book of Spells or- ooh maybe something from those books for parents from first year about how wizarding mail works? We’ll have to skim through those, and then-”

Harry smiled, watching Hermione effectively talk to herself as she walked back towards the dining room to start on research, as he picked up their breakfast dishes and moved them to the sink.

They got through five books, and no closer to understanding how Harry’s mail was being tampered with before Stymie sailed back into the house. Hermione beat Harry to the letter, but as she read it, Harry reflected that it was probably for the best that she interpret the results of her test.

“The only letter Draco got was only from me, the Test 1. So, even though Test 2 was also from me and I sent the letter only from you, it’s specifically targeted your writing. I think it’s worth considering that this is affecting all of your mail – wait have you had any Muggle post in the last few days?”

“Erm, I think I had a letter from the court, about what’s happening with the Dursleys the day before yesterday? So that means it’s not affecting Muggle mail, just wizarding. What could differentiate like that? Something targeting the owls?”

“Hmm, maybe, I think I’ll have to send off to Draco for some books from the Manor, but we can start with...”

When Emma and Dan Granger got home from work that night, they took one look at Hermione’s red rimmed wild stare, and frantic explanations, and decided that they would all go out for dinner.

“Invite Draco, and his parents.” Dan suggested. “If you send a letter, Hermione, maybe Lucius can check for any spells on Harry.”

– HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP –

While Lucius had a prior arrangement, Narcissa and Draco were free to meet with the Grangers. They apparated into the Grangers’ home a scant 45 minutes later, promptly throwing the discussions as to where to eat into disarray with their rather formal attire. A suitable Italian restaurant was quickly called and booked, and the group set off in two cars, driven by each of the Granger parents.

Dan found his car occupied by all three of the children, who had packed themselves into the back seats, with Harry in the middle, and were furiously whispering to each other. From what little he could hear, both Harry and Draco were well on their way to resolving the misunderstanding and, with a wink to Hermione in the rear view mirror, he leaned over and turned the radio up slightly, affording them a little more privacy.

The group made polite, if stilted conversation once sat at a table, however once their food had arrived, Narcissa pulled out a carved gold amulet and placed it at the centre of the table, delicately pressing one finger to the largest carved rune.

“There, that should ensure our conversation isn’t overheard. So, problems with owl mail? What do we know so far?” Narcissa asked between dainty bites of her salad.

Hermione visibly struggled to pull her eyes away from the amulet Narcissa had set down, before speaking at a nudge from Harry.

“We did some tests with letters to and from Harry - anything he writes on never makes it to the destination - even when he wrote to me and gave it to Hedwig from another room in the house. Hedwig didn’t seem to be confused, or disturbed, or even noticeably slowed down.” Hermione frowned. “I just can’t think what might be able to interfere with it to that extent - I mean I found a few jinxes that could disrupt mail from certain people, and slow it down, but nothing to this extent...”

“Harry, have you had any mail from Gringotts, this summer?” Narcissa asked, thoughtfully. “Any spells interfering to that level would be curses, Hermione, so certainly nothing I would have expected you to come across at this point in your education.”

“No - but I don’t know if I got anything while I was at the Dursleys - the last I saw was when I was at Hogwarts, and then it was just monthly account statements.” Harry frowned, clearly thinking hard.

“It’s still possible that something other than a spell was used - there are a number of potions and artefacts which can interfere with mail, however these are generally rare items and difficult to brew potions. Once we have eaten, I’ll see if there is anything I can find - but at least I’m here and not Lucius - he’s always struggled a little on the unfocused nature of this sort of thing.” She sipped a glass of wine daintily. “Of course, given my family history as well, I’m very well versed on the artefact side of things, and should this be potions related, I’m sure we could convince Severus to assist.”

It was nearly dark before Narcissa pronounced herself thoroughly confused at the lack of results her casting gave. She had cast any number of different spells on Harry, and was certain that he was not under the influence of any mail curses (although she had frowned at the results of a number of spells, and vowed to take Harry to St Mungos once the Grangers’ guardianship was more certain), nor were there any artefacts secreted around the house, and given the length of time he had not received letters for, and the Grangers’ tendency to eat meals together, the likelihood of him have ingested potions, and not Hermione, was very low.

“Right, the second prong then.” Narcissa said firmly, no less ladylike despite her hair beginning to frizz from the amount of powerful magic she had cast that evening. “Interim measures.”

“What are those?” Emma Granger asked curiously.

“We bypass the owls, and try to get Harry his mail by another method.” Narcissa smiled tightly. “Hopefully, this should work.  _ Dobby _ !”

The small house elf appeared in front of Narcissa, head bowed low.

“Yes Mistress Malfoy?”

“Dobby, Harry Potter here is struggling with his post - I would like you to attend to him when he calls for you, and collect and deliver any post he would like to send, and wait for replies. You are to make every effort to ensure Harry gets all of his mail.” Narcissa ordered the elf, whose eyes widened.

“Dobby will get Mister Harry Potter Sir’s mail, Mistress Malfoy.” He squeaked, and at a snap of his fingers, a large pile of envelopes and scrolls appeared next to him.

“Dobby, where did these letters come from?” Narcissa asked, frowning heavily.

“Dobby had them, Mistress.” The elf was tearful. “Harry Potter sir is valiant and bold! Dobby has heard tell that Harry Potter sir met the Dark Lord and that Harry Potter escaped again! Harry Potter has braved many dangers, but Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts.”

“Dobby, is it?” Dan leaned forward in his seat. “Dobby, Harry has to go back to Hogwarts, he has to learn magic. It’s the law.”

“Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter, there is a plot! A plot to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts school this year!” Dobby whispered, before suddenly turning and smashing his face into the coffee table. Both Emma and Hermione screamed out in shock, but the elf continued to speak. “Dobby is sorry Mistress, Dobby should not have said that. Dobby did it for the best-”

“How was it for the best to take my letters? To make me think my friends-” Harry broke off, aiming a sharp kick at the wall and scoffing.

“Dobby thought that Harry Potter would not want to go to Hogwarts, if his friends were not his friends.”

“Dobby, please return to the Manor.” Almost before the last word had left Narcissa’s lips, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared. Her face was pinched, but she sat straight and rigid. “I’ll have to speak to Lucius about this - Dobby has been with us at a number of events this summer, we’ll have a great number of things to look into, and it would be inappropriate to discuss individuals of that stature outside of the strongest of wards. Draco, should you wish to stay the night here, to speak with Harry, your father can bring you a bag of your things - if that is acceptable to you, of course?” Her eyes moved across to the Grangers, who nodded in agreement.

With a nod to herself and a tight smile, Narcissa stood, hands fluttering to smooth out her robes, and briskly walked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's been reading, and leaving kind comments. To the reviewer who asked about pairings - at the moment, I don't know what pairings there will be, I've got some idea of where the story will go as time goes on, but the details elude me. Might be slash, might not, might be Gen. There is definitely not going to be Mpreg in this though.


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